Dream Princess
by Kazeno Rei
Summary: Chiba Mamoru and Tenoh Haruka meet before they are awakened as senshi. Both have dreams of a glowing goddess calling out to them, but neither can decipher the true meaning of these dreams on their own. A combination of the anime and manga personas for these characters will be used. In progress; I'll update as fast as I can. Please R&R, thanks!
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

It never takes too long for my teammates to refer to me as cold or heartless. Sure, they usually try to say it in a joking or teasing manner, but they can never quite erase or hide the undercurrent of tension in their words. They mean what they say, and when they finally do say it, I can hear it all: the accusation, the concern, the relief of finally saying something, and the hesitation and worry about how I will react.

I'm considering all of this as I watch a man walk into this café – this haven from the rest of my life. I watch this particular man because for the last month, he has come in nearly every day at this same ungodly hour. I had gotten used to the clientele before he became a regular visitor: mostly night students, the full variety of vagrants, and the occasional still-drunk or hung-over tourist. He naturally stood out, looking something like a combination of all 3 genres. I suppose I always have too, but perhaps just a tiny bit more resigned to my fate and thus, reserved. Regardless, he caught my eye immediately because I recognized the weight in his steps, and the haunted countenance he made no effort to control or hide.

It was the look of someone so haunted by the possible reality of their ridiculous dreams that to come to terms with such a reality would collapse their entire known world. To a perfectly self-confident person, it was a shocking fragility. So, I watched. Time and time again he would come in and order only a black coffee, much like myself, and simply bow his head and stare at that cup until the steam faded… much like myself. Having watched this no less than 20 times, I was certain – my practiced indifference should be dropped in the hopes of possible commiseration. Misery loves company, right? And so, I picked up my coffee cup and walked over to him. I sat my cup down in front of the seat next to him, and as I sat, I spoke with obvious sympathy for the first time in probably my entire adult life.

"Rough night?"

I saw a small jolt in his posture that I doubt would've been noticed by anyone else. It's something I've worked to hide myself, but sometimes, inborn instinct blows right past carefully constructed posturing.

"You could say that." He said guardedly, and I didn't miss the slight hesitation he had. My assumption was that he thought I came over to chat his ear off. I've seen it often enough in these wee morning hours that I would wager his next move would be to say something placating followed by a quick exit. So, I was rather surprised at his next spontaneous words.

"I'm feeling torn apart… in everything. " He said in what I thought sounded like a defeated tone. I knew that feeling. Inside and out, I knew that feeling. His forthrightness caught me off guard, and he must have noticed my pause because he turned to me with a rapidly developing mask of defensiveness. I made a quick decision to prove my teammates wrong and… defrost.

"I know what that's like. Even tonight, I know what that's like."

He met my gaze evenly. I stood stock-still and held his eyes with my own. I watched his irises shift as he searched mine. What felt like minutes passed, and then whatever he had seen made him cough out a short, sardonic laugh.

"You know, when you say it, I believe you." He said, returning his eyes to his coffee. I let out a combination of a sympathetic and burdened sigh while I sat beside him. Neither of us said anything for a long while. He broke the silence with a question that I could feel was laced with a developing empathy.

"So, girl troubles?

I couldn't stop the scoff-laugh as it erupted from my lungs. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"You could say that." I paused as I watched him nod to my answer. Well, time to commiserate.

"I'm Tenoh Haruka, by the way." I held out my hand and he took it with a firm grasp.

"Chiba Mamorou." He answered, shaking my hand with a firm grasp. The instant our palms connected, I felt something like an electric shock shoot through my hand and arm, directly to my mind, and I felt the sudden urge to bow to this man. I resisted this urge, and I noticed he must have felt something odd himself as he blinked rapidly and immediately withdrew his hand.

"Ah, um, nice to meet you." He stammered. My reaction wasn't any better as I let out a heavy breath I didn't know I had apparently been holding. We sat in silence for a long time after that, both sipping our cooling coffee and fidgeting with the napkins or straws. However, something about that previous spark loosened my tongue, and I suddenly felt I could dive into this issue with him.

"So, who is she?" I ventured, a light chill settling into my body as I realized he will undoubtedly ask me something similar. I turned my head to watch him as he took his time in answering.

"Ah, never mind Haruka-san." He said, politely, and I could actually see the pain he's causing himself. So, at that, I stopped myself from teasing him with a snarky response, which is my go-to tactic when I'm unsettled. I mean, he really did look like he'd been put through the ringer not only tonight, but every night I'd seen him so far. There had to be some way to get this poor guy to open up! I had put myself trough the doldrums for my own crazy matter, and I did it all alone, which I now realize was stupid and arrogant of me. I completely believe having someone to talk to earlier on might have made things easier. Now, having seen this guy drag himself in here, always alone, for almost a month, and knowing the exhaustion of such a solitary pursuit, I had to prod deeper, if only to lighten another's burden – after all, I'm not really all _that_ heartless.

"Come on Mamoru-san, it can't be that bad." I say, getting the feeling he might have already told himself that a million times. However, he does seem to loosen up at my casual use of the friendly honorific. A tension that had taken over his shoulders vanishes while he blows on his already cooled coffee before taking a big gulp and then turning to me.

"You'll think I'm crazy." He says in a weird mix of shame and confidence.

"I somehow doubt it." The words tumble forth before I have time to think. He immediately locks eyes with me, and whatever he sees gives him the courage to continue.

"O…k. Well, Haruka-san," He smiles a little as I appear to be comfortable with our new-found familiarity.

"Here goes. In this last month or so, every single night, I dream of a girl who needs my help. "He pauses, gauging my reaction. I provide him an encouraging nod, which seems to satisfy him enough to continue.

"She's beautiful and imploring… My heart breaks for her tears…." He trails off for a moment, but picks up with conviction, "and I know it's my help that she needs. But she always fades away before I can find out how to help her. It seems like she can see me, but before I can move toward her, the world crumbles around us. That's when I wake up, without fail." He finishes as a tremor ripples through his body… but I'm already too frozen to react to that. I'm not even able to utter a single syllable, for he has just described the exact dream which has been torturing me for months. He notices my reaction and his eyes narrow.

"What about you?" He asks firmly, apparently expecting me to mock him or say something insincere. His stare is penetrating. Maybe he's allowing me the chance to acknowledge the weird feeling we had just shared moments ago, as his sapphire eyes have just gained an undeniable commanding shade. His piercing gaze shakes me to my core, and I find myself at a loss for words for the first time in years. This stranger, this man no more than a year or two older than myself, has been having the same dream as me? Has he also been dealing with it for the last several months, or only the amount of time he's been visiting this cafe? Does he also feel like two different people at times? Where do we go from here? Why did both of us have the same vision of the pleading apparition? Before I can help myself, my defenses flare and I too narrow my gaze to meet this peer.

"Mamoru-san, you might not believe it, but I can completely relate. Every night, I have that same dream – your dream. "I give him a moment to interrupt me if need be. He doesn't, and not even his gaze wavers as I decide to continue. "A beautiful woman needs my help, but I can never reach her before my dream ends." I state, purposely not mentioning any of the other details from my dream; - in particular, the shattering ending that always comes as I fail to answer the glowing goddess in my dream.

He accepts my response with a notable slump to his posture. He may not have intended it, but I can see the disappointment leaking through the relief that he's not the only one going mad over a dream princess. It takes him a few moments, but he eventually looks at me with a watery smile.

"I want to help her; to save her." He says quietly, but with such conviction than I can't help but smile in return. I know what he means too. I feel a tinge of jealousy at the fact that I'm not the only one the angel is reaching out to in the realm of dreams. On top of that, as much as every nerve in my body always screams to run from the chaos and destruction in those dreams, every fiber of my being wants to save the girl-angel from it too. No wonder Mamoru-san summarized it as feeling torn apart. With a huge sigh, I lazily flop my arm over his shoulders. With such a nightmare, it couldn't hurt either of us to be there for each other.

"Me too Mamoru-san, me too ."

He stares ahead for less than a minute before finally nodding with a sad smirk. He then pats my arm before standing to leave.

"I hope to see you again." He says before standing and bowing as my arm slips down to my side. I stand too and bow my head in agreement.

"Until next we meet." I say as he nods again before turning and leaving the café. I grab my cup and walk back to my normal booth. As I slouch into my seat, a wave of nausea hits me as my present-self and dream-self appear to collide, blurring my vision.

By the gods, what path is this?


	2. Chapter 2

Author note: thanks for all the views; I hope you're all enjoying the story I'm telling here. It's very enjoyable to write. Thanks for the reviews too! And yes, I've been watching Sailormoon Crystal as well. My story will likely pull influence from both animes and the manga; however probably nothing from the live action, given one of my main characters never saw life on the show. On with it!

Sailormoon characters are not mine – this is FFBF (For Fans By Fans). Enjoy the continuation of Dream Princess!

CHAPTER 2

Mamoru only walks a third of the way back to his apartment before the nausea hits him as well. The feeling of the ghostly dream-Mamoru finding footing in his present-self nearly makes him topple over into the street. By some fortune, his strength blooms and he suddenly stands tall and purposeful. He gasps as the ghost of a mask flutters before his eyes. It's gone in less than a breath, but the sense of power, importance, and commitment lingers. It's the most foreign feeling he's experienced in his entire life, because for that moment, he felt as though he were King of the Earth.

However, the experience of his dreams maybe having just now leaked through to his normal, waking life stops him cold. He stands, frozen in place as his jerky breaths try to balance out his racing heartbeat. If what he's seen in the dreams is true, then there must indeed be a princess, or at least an important girl, who needs help.

But, if more than one man has had this dream, perhaps he alone isn't meant to save her. This crushing realization hits Mamoru just as he shuffles into his apartment and is locking the door. He strikes out with his fist against the door-frame and slides to his knees. As much as he longs for understanding of this madness, and the possible empathic support of Tenoh Haruka there is a compulsion he can't bury to selfishly shield his dream girl from everything - even the possible help of another man. Sobs wrack his body. As an orphan, he had basically raised himself, but in doing so, had severely isolated himself. He has but one person he would call a friend, so to have a glowing goddess beseech him so tenderly makes his heart bleed.

A barely-noticeable, but still comforting warmth blossoms in his chest as faint moonlight filters in through his curtains.

"Silver Crystal…"

He gasps – it was voice of his princess… but, was it her speaking, or just his memories triggered by his recent vision? Hoisting himself up with a heavy sigh, he walks into his bedroom to change, not even considering the idea of trying to catch a little sleep.

"I must be going completely mad." He mumbles, just as the first rays of dawn lighten the sky from black to blue.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey! Taking a note from the reviews, I've made this chapter longer. I think this will be the average length from here on out. you so much for the support so far – it's a real treat to have readers review my work; I feel truly privileged when I check in and find more people have not only read my stuff, but also taken the time to leave me a comment. So, again, thank you very much! On with it then…

No characters are mine; this is a work BFFF (By Fans For Fans).

CHAPTER 3

"The Silence is approaching…"

I bolt upright with a barely concealed scream. My chest heaves with panicked breaths. I run my hands over my face and through my hair as my pulse returns to normal. I look over at my clock – 3:30am, same as last night. I resign myself to the fact I'll be getting no more rest tonight and begin to get dressed. My dream persona always wears a white oxford shirt with a black tee and blue jeans, so I always dress the same way whenever I'm too haunted by the dream to fall back to sleep. Then, I walk. And I walk and I walk… until my feet ache, or until I have to be at the track or at school, whichever comes first. I'm not superstitious about anything else in my life, but part of me hopes that dressing the same as my dream-self might get me answers. The logical side of my mind turns its' nose up at the notion, but my emotional side is so tightly wound already that its' willing to try anything.

When these restless nights befall me, and I turn to walking, I always find my soles carrying me to either the river or the lake by my apartment. At either place, I feel slightly soothed by the dark water, or the moonlight glowing on the surface, and there always seems to be a breeze that cools my nerves. Tonight is no different; when I reach the fishing pier, the brilliant moonlight's reflection lulls me into a light trance. As I watch the water ebb and flow ever so little, seemingly matching my heartbeat, I notice the breeze rustling my hair. Suddenly, I feel a power in the wind, stirring something deep inside my soul. I can barely grasp a feeling of familiarity at this power, but just as I do, I hear my dream girl's unmistakable voice.

"We must find the Messiah…. Quickly…." My eyes snap open; I didn't even realize that I had closed them. I feel warmth fading from the center of my forehead too. I rub the spot and the warmth disappears – what a strange time for a headache. I hadn't had a headache in years; I must be concentrating too hard on this growing enigma. I knew that voice all too well. My dream goddess had just reached me tonight, while I was awake? She had said Messiah – the word conjures memories of the stained glass windows at the church from my childhood. A Messiah; how would he or she fit into the mystery of the devastatingly destructive force the girl in my dreams calls The Silence? I let out an exasperated sigh and being walking again, changing my path to head towards the café I haunt at these hours. If Chiba-san shows up there too, I'm going to ask for more details from his dream. Perhaps our visions will fit together and reveal more about where all this is headed.

As I walk in, I don't see him, so I sit in my typical booth and order a black coffee with two spoons of sugar. Something from the last hour is pulling at my consciousness; a nagging feeling of a memory I can't bring into focus. I stir my drink until it forms a vortex – an old habit of mine.

"…_eep Submer-" _I hear while I watch the spinning chocolate liquid. My breath hitches and my limbs freeze mid-stir. I can't tell where what I just heard came from, and that nagging feeling remains; perhaps even growing stronger. A full minute passes and life continues as normal with no further ghostly whispers or fragmented visions. I pinch the bridge of my nose; if I wasn't so stubborn, I'm willing to bet that all of this would've already driven me to the asylum. Chiba-san walks in at this moment and I allow myself a humorous laugh at the timing. He looks the same as always: thoughtful, but exhausted, with a crease of either concentration or worry across his brow. Or both, and I wouldn't be surprised if my own appearance mirrored his.

Just like yesterday, I pick up my coffee and walk up to sit beside him. He glances up as I settle in.

"Rough night?" He repeats my question from last night with a barely noticeable smirk

I return his smirk and nod. "Yup. You?"

He stifles a yawn while nodding. "Every night is rough these days."

We sit there in silence for a while, both wanting answers but neither knowing exactly what to ask. He rubs his temples and plows forth.

"Does she ever ask you to find anything?"

I fail to hide the shock on my face, and I think he notices. My dream-girl had only mentioned the Messiah just tonight… how long has he been searching all ready? Or, did she just reach out to him about it tonight as well? I can't tell how he's interpreting my shock, so I try to recover.

"Actually, yes, but," I pause to gage his reaction. He's listening intently, clearly keenly interested, "I'm not sure I understand what it might mean. I mean, I understand the words, of course, but I can't even begin to fathom where to begin looking." He looks so conflicted at my answer that I don't know what to say next. I can clearly see him deflate just a bit at my confirmation that our dream princess is imploring both of us to find something. I also see his expression tighten with newborn confidence. He looks over to me and speaks with a tone of certainty he hadn't used before.

"Perhaps we should work together; two minds are better than one, right?" He holds his hand out for me to shake, as if agreeing to a contract or deal. I hesitate for just a moment; for something so personal, I would usually prefer solitary work. However, the voices of my teammates and crew members float through my mind and I realize I'd be falling back into my standard habits if I refused help – something told me this camaraderie couldn't hurt in solving this issue. A team could be just two people working together, right?

"I agree." I say warmly, but still a little solemnly as my pride practically winces from my rather quick acceptance of the help of nearly a stranger with an originally, completely, personal matter. I clasp his hand tightly to shake on the arrangement… and my heart skips a beat.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi folks! I know it took a little longer to post this chapter. I've been working 12 hour shifts 6 days a week recently, so I kinda forgot about my creative pursuits a little bit. Sorry for the delay! I hope you guys like this chapter, as I feel like my story is fleshing out nicely. I want to thank those of you whom have left reviews – I've said it before and I'll say it again: for me, reviews are a real treat. I love to get them! Encouragement and support is great, and suggestions/critiques/questions are always welcome. Traffic has blown me away too…. Over 500 views?! You guys rock!

On to Dream Princess, ENJOY!

- This piece is FFBF (For Fans By Fans) and is entirely non-profit -

CHAPTER 4

The handshake evokes an incredible stunning effect this time; it's much stronger, almost magical. Brilliant white light floods Mamoru's sight, and as it fades, a light blue aura remains, surrounding Tenoh Haruka. Just the same as last time, it's as if electricity raced up from their connected hands, straight up his body, and into Mamoru's brain, buzzing with supernatural power. Then, a little like the double vision one gets after drinking too much _saké_, there's a fuzzy image covering the blonde man before him, softening his features just enough to look feminine. This blurred overlay also appears to be wearing a revealing sailor school-girl uniform as a gaussian layer over his, or maybe her, current attire, and there is a glowing sigil on their forehead. Almost as quickly this vision appeared, it fades and vanishes. Mamoru releases Haruka's hand and takes a shuddering breath. Alarm bells are going off in his head; he feels a significant familiarity with the ghostly vision which is at odds with a feeling he recognizes as more instinctual, but also severely guarded and wary, buried in his psyche. After another deep and steadier breath, he meets Haruka's eyes and is surprised to see his, or her, pupils constricted to pin-points and that their body is as rigid as a statue. He feels frozen too, and watches as Haruka gulps and blinks a few times before breaking the tense silence between them.

"Mamoru-san, did you see something just now? An image, like a camera out of focus?"

"I ….may have." He says, falsely calm. Thankfully, Haruka merely nods in apparent understanding rather than reading further into the tone of his answer. They sit wordlessly for several minutes, both obviously shell-shocked and processing the fact that they had just shared some sort of vision, while wide awake, all as a result of shaking hands. Haruka is the one to speak next, appearing to have worked through the initial shock.

"Have you ever owned a tuxedo?" She suddenly asks him. Mamoru doesn't answer right away; the word 'tuxedo' reverberates through his mind, but whatever memory it's attached to is a rarified as smoke.

"No, never even rented one." He answers, giving up trying to trace the slippery memory. He is a little unsure how to ask his own questions regarding what he had just witnessed. Since seeing the faint overlay moments ago, Mamrou now recognizes the almost completely hidden feminine curves and stature of Haruka's form. This revelation adds an extra layer of complication he hadn't expected, so he attempts to choose his next words carefully.

"Haruka-san," he starts, worried about the reaction he's about to get, having never asked this type of question, but he follows his instinct and presses forward, "please don't be offended – but do you always dress as a male?"

Haruka shows a minimal reaction to the question, and answers in a polite tone, showing no evidence of being offended, startled, or put out in any way, much to Mamoru's relief.

"Almost always." She answers comfortably, giving Mamoru a moment to digest this response. Her gender is rarely called into question by someone she barely knows, and Mamoru seems to take her answer well. Then, suddenly thinking of the reason she's been dressing this particular way recently, Haruka decides to reveal more details from her memories of their shared dream, hoping that it will encourage him to continue opening up.

"In fact, I wear these exact clothes whenever I try to walk off the effects of the dream we both seem to have. My dream-self wears this outfit," she pauses, coughing into her fist, "and it feels silly finally saying this out loud, but I thought it might help clear things up if I at least dress the same as I do in my dream." Mamoru had jerked his head up at her mention of a clearly different perspective,

"You can see yourself in the dreams?"

"Only sometimes," she answers, tilting her head to the side a little, "Are you saying you can't?" Mamoru shakes his head 'no' in response, then concentrates for a moment on this new information before answering in a heavy tone, "However, I feel like I'm wearing something heavy and formal, maybe even a cape or cloak. Armor too, like an ancient King or Duke or something." He laughs and looks at Haruka with a light blush. "Silly, right?" She remains tense for just a moment, eventually relaxing with a slight grin before answering.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes, I feel as ancient and tired as Fuji-yama – that I've been around since the times of Kings and Gods. Silly too, considering my true age."

That got Mamoru thinking; he really had no idea how old his partner in misery was. So, he got the ball rolling.

"I'm 2nd year high school, myself."

Haruka nodded in response. "I'm first year. Doing well too, all considering." She ended in a scoff-chuckle. Mamoru understood what she meant. He too was doing well enough in school. Surprising, considering he would spend his hours after waking from the dream walking anywhere the moonlight led him, instead of putting those hours to good use studying. He worried though; where would he find the energy to figure out which field of study he's most adept at and should pursue for a career if these dreams wound up to be never-ending? Could this dream princess be found? Would the dreams finally stop if he found her here in Tokyo?

Mamoru suddenly slams his fist on the counter, rattling their coffees. Haruka's hackles flare only for a moment before she immediately sees the tremor shaking Mamoru's whole body.

"If only we could just find her…" he trails off. The jealousy he had felt yesterday after meeting Haruka and learning that the beauty in his dreams was also reaching out to "another man" had been replaced by utter confusion. Why was this glowing spirit imploring both him and another woman with identical earnest, begging for their help, clearly straining both their hearts with her gentile pleas? With vigor still lingering underneath the confusion, he looks up from the countertop.

"Haruka-san, what do you think this woman, or princess, or goddess, or whatever she may be, needs so desperately that she would send cryptic visions to both of us, but not suggest anything further than what she repeats each time?" He asks. He notices her sigh ever so slightly as she gently stirs her coffee. He watches her watch the rippling liquid and notices a softening in her gaze and posture.

"The darkness surrounding her; the world crumbling, falling apart; tears flowing from her large, watery eyes as she begs us to search for people and things…" She pauses to see Mamoru nod encouragingly, so she continues, at last describing her whole dream aloud.

"In my dreams, a dystopian world fades into existence before me, and it appears to be falling apart; swallowed by a growing darkness. A beautiful apparition appears at a distance from me, glowing in comparison to the throbbing murky hues surrounding us. Before the expanding dark danger can reach her and me, she opens her striking eyes and speaks to me. Her words and tone are begging, but simultaneously demanding. Her words are always mostly drowned out by the impending destruction, but I can hear her say that the Silence is approaching; probably a metaphor for the mayhem brewing in the darkness surrounding us. Then, tonight, she said something more. She had added that and I must find 'the Messiah'….."

Mamoru watches her, clearly dumbfounded. Sure, parts of her description mirror his own dreams, but some of what Haruka has supplied doesn't match what he has recalled thus far. It leaves a stirring in the pit of his stomach, tugging at his intuition. He decides to jump in with his own information, as they are now certainly working together, and he feels they are on the verge of some discovery, at long last.

"Has she said anything about a crystal?" Mamrou asks, not hiding some of the first excitement he's felt since calling himself a victim of hallucinations and dreams.

Haruka nods to show her understanding that they are in full investigative mode now.

"I think so, but it's hard to say. Sometimes, I can't tell if it's spoken words I'm hearing, or feelings that seem to form their own words."

Mamoru doesn't have to say anything; his posture and expression show that he knows exactly what Haruka means, so she continues.

"I want to say I've heard the word 'crystal' at some point. However, I think it was 'crystals' – so plural. Does any of that trigger anything with you Mamoru-san?"

"Nothing new, unfortunately." He deflates a little. "At first, I couldn't see any of her features in the darkness, just a silhouette. Of course, I see and remember more details each night, but the scene seems to stay the same. She hadn't mentioned a Messiah to me though. At least, not yet…" He trails off, noticing the amber glaze of dawn hitting the top of the building next door. He decides to take his leave and get a good half hour of studying in before school starts. He gulps down the remainder of his coffee and stands up.

"I'm going to back to my place and then school. " He pauses." Do you think you'll be here again tomorrow?

Haruka shrugs, "Unless I can actually stay asleep, I'll be here to commiserate." She says with a wink he imagined makes girl's hearts flutter. Mamoru grabs his jacket and book bag and steps out into the breaking dawn.

Please review if you have the time to. Thanks, and see you guys soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes:

**Guest from 9/4/14:** Thank you so much for the encouragement! It's a review like this that really gets me inspired. I'm thrilled that you dig my story!

**LoveInTheBattlefield: **You got it! I'm seeing this story through to the end!

**Sternenkind1759: **I'm so happy you like my writing style; I'm very self-conscious about it, so to get reviews like yours make it all worthwhile ;)

**Solci and Ashes: **Thank you two very much! I'm keeping the story flowing as best I can; I hope you continue to enjoy!

I think that covers the recent reviews. I appreciate them so much! The recognition that this idea of mine is enjoyed makes me happy to no end! I love feedback of any kind (even if it's regarding grammar errors or disagreements how my treatment of the characters) because anything written to me I will take as support, or advice. Again, thank you all! Please Read and Review (it's the only way I'll ever improve).

This is a piece FFBF (for fans, by fans). Blessed be all, and onward with Dream Princess!

Chapter 5

I made it to my school's track yard just as the dawn light filled the sky, covering everything with a golden glow. I decided against attempting a catnap under the birch trees which line the property, as it wouldn't be long before the morning track class would take the field. The door to the locker room was thankfully unlocked, which meant that Kamakura-sensei had already been here to prep before class. I ducked in, glancing at the clock. It looked like I'd have enough time to go through my stretches at a relaxed pace before being surrounded by my track-mates. After changing into my running uniform, I let the tap run water until it was very hot, soaking a facial towel in the sink until my hands couldn't bear the heat. It felt very nice to press that towel over my stressed forehead and eyes. Even the rising steam from the basin was soothing. After a few moments, I returned outside and began stretching out my tired and over-tensed muscles. The stresses of the visions and dreams were really taking their toll. I took my time on my calves and knees, and was slow and methodical with my thighs, working out the even the slightest remnant of tension. My arms and shoulders sure still needed work though. I sat on a bench, acknowledging the tap tap tap of the shoes of other girls doing jogging warm ups, having just emerged from the locker room.

I began a series of stretches that I'd taught myself, a sort of a 'special' set. They'd been in my mind as far back as I can remember, and I think my earliest memory was that I had started doing them to mimic Olympic athletes on TV when I was very little. I could slowly feel my ki flowing freely and unburdened after that set; I'd be ready to run at my best, no problem. Hopefully, a couple good matches would provide the quiet, meditative relief I could only find when racing the wind. My track mates never knew I wasn't racing them, and would always come up to me at the end of a match to either promise victory next time, or to ask for any critiques or suggestions. Typically, I'll respond with something convincing and just dismissive enough to politely excuse myself. I could never tell them that sometimes, it would feel like I was successfully outrunning a terrible destiny; some aggressive and persistent fate which I was powerless to stop, always leaving me only one option: to keep running .

There were other feelings too, though: sometimes, I would feel awash in a timeless place, just as the world blurred around me while my heels pounded the track and my pulse roared in my skull, feeling more like flying than running…

I was suddenly snapped from my reverie as I recognized the sounds of other people entering the track and field bleachers. Oh! I had forgotten. Today was the meet, not just a typical class. As I paid more attention, I could see some crowds beginning to fill the bleachers – students from my school and others in the same district. This meet had honestly been the last thing on my mind since meeting Mamorou-san. Luckily, I had not spared any training, and I was suddenly glad that I had taken the time to center myself this morning rather than attempt a little more REM. Even so, I was still only functioning on about 4 ½ hours of sleep… Perhaps today will be the day that I am finally outmatched.

In roughly a half hour, the seats are full and we runners are lined up at our marks. The wind rustles and I suddenly hear _her_ voice.

"The Silence is approaching…"

I can't stop the wince her voice evokes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose; why now? Why is she reaching out to me at such an inconvenient time?

"That again…" I trail off. Elsa Gray, the girl in the lane next to me, who is easily my equal at this length, seems to notice my sudden tension, and tries an attempt at levity to pull me back to the present.

"I hear you're very fast. But I won't lose!" She ends with a wink. I manage a courteous nod, and bend to my mark, waiting for the starting gunshot.

BANG!

I race as I always race, nothing in front of me but swift air. It passes all too quickly, and I'm at the end of the line, having barely broken a sweat and sipping a small cup of water. Elsa came in rather close behind me – I had to give her some credit there; she really is an excellent runner to have come that close to my speed. I pull on track suit pants, and while I'm zipping up my jacket, Elsa approaches with a warm greeting.

"Tenoh Haruka-san, I had heard the rumors about how fast you are; you really are amazing!"

I turn toward her, not exactly sure how to answer such kind praise from someone whom I had just outrun in a match.

"I have someone I want to introduce you to." She adds, gesturing to her right. "Come on over, Michiru."

My lungs stop working as I take in in the obvious grace and beauty of the woman I'm being introduced to. I'm not sure if Elsa-san notices how stricken I am; regardless, she casually continues with the greeting.

"This is Kaioh Michiru. She's very intelligent, and a brilliant painter. She said she's interested in you posing." Elsa-san explains as if this were an everyday occurrence. It was a rare day where someone would behave so boldly toward me, not to mention _two _people, together. After all, I have carefully crafted an aloof attitude which is rarely breached. This time, however, my façade fails me utterly, and I do all I can to not gape at the captivating girl before me. Her eyes alone both freeze my blood and set my veins on fire. Beautiful.

Kaioh Michiru takes my breathlessness as an opening to approach me.

"You aren't sweating at all; perhaps you were holding yourself back a bit?"

It was odd, to say the least, for a school mate to notice that about me after a race. Actually, come to think of it, no one had ever brought it up before. In my races, I never tried to hold myself back, but I also never made any attempt to hide the lack of enthusiasm I assume I can't completely hide. Track and field only provides a slight escape for me; I never thought anyone would notice that my heart was never in the competition. It was the same with all sports at school. However, I did find some release in motocross, which is a far less personal game than the 100 meter dash. But, that wasn't something I was able to compete in as often as school track, and I very much need some kind of distraction these days. Thus, I was grateful for the healthy competition Elsa Gray and others have been providing.

After a overcoming my initial reaction, I had to ask, "What do you mean?" very curious to have her elaborate on what caught her attention enough to speak up.

Instead of a polite and typical response, her short answer fractures my known universe.

"Can't you hear the sound of wind… rustling?" She asks in perfect sincerity.

I had no idea one could die in place where they stood, at least, not a teenager! For the briefest of moments, my lungs and heart stopped working completely, and I could only take in this beautiful, radiant, flawless girl before me and attempt to processes her words. I saw both bright flashes and crimson spots in the corners of my vision as I feel her words sink in.

"_Can't you hear the sound of wind rustling?"_

No doubt about it. This is my dream princess. However, in this instance, she seems deadly serious, perhaps even battle-worn already; nothing like the pleading apparition in my dreams. Worse yet, she clearly and undeniably knows I recognize the true depth and reality of her question.

She knows I recognize her.

My destiny has finally caught up with me, and it was just as stilling, mysterious, and shattering as I had feared. At this moment, my heart, mind, and soul are all too incongruent to handle the absolute fate that is suddenly staring me down. My beautiful goddess is standing before me, flesh and blood, and all I can think about is running away. She is here to ask for my commitment in a grave situation; a partnership to prevent the destruction of the world. I could tell, deep in my soul that acknowledging Kaioh Michriu as the woman from my dreams would be sealing my fate – I would become a solder, fighting to protect this world until the day I ultimately die.

After months of tortuous dreams, I could only process so much… and this was too much. I grabbed my bag and responded as nonchalantly as possible.

"That's weird. So, what do you want with me?"  
She keeps her expression open and friendly.

"Will you be a model for one of my drawings?"

For whatever reason, my normal indifference comes to the surface, perhaps as a defense mechanism, and I respond apathetically.

"I'll pass. I don't like to do stuff like that." My back is already turned, so I can't see her reaction, but neither she nor Elsa Gray offer any verbal attempt to keep me standing with them. I'm grateful for the easy exit, as my mind is running a million kilos a minute, and my vision is swimming. I think I'll ditch all the rest of my classes, take a long, hot shower and attempt some sleep. At this point, I'm desperate to speak with Mamoru-san as well. We'd yet to exchange contact info, so I can only hope I'll run into him at the café in several hours.

Back in the locker room, after changing into a lose dress shirt and black slacks, I press both palms to my eyes and apply pressure, trying to relieve the hammering that had developed. The center of my forehead hurt the worst, the place often called the third-eye chakra. It felt like a tight knot, about the same as an ice-cream headache that refuses to fade. Meanwhile, For the first time in my life, I'm happy that I have someone I can talk to about a shared issue, so I pray that if there's any magic in any of this, that Mamoru-san feels my urgency and will show up tonight – I have to let him know that our dream girl is no spirit: she lives an apparent life of normalcy and walks among us.


End file.
